The Candlemaker's Daughter
by cocoalover1956
Summary: In Flea Bottom, men still speak of a candlemaker's daughter named Robin who cradled the broken prince in her arms and gave him comfort as he died, but there is more of legend than of history in that tale.
1. The Fall

The sky was full chaos and a hunger for death. The Shepard, an outspoken old septon, was leading his sheep to Dragonpit, their intent to kill buzzing through the air and earth like a living being, growing fiercer by the second and snarling in rage. Robin peered over the shop window in horror as the city broke out into chaos. Pa had said he would come home from visit his sick aunt an hour ago, but he had not yet returned. Had he been killed in the riots? Or merely delayed and waiting until it was safe before coming home? She had no way of knowing.

Because Pa owned a candle shop, there was no lack of light when the sun fell, but also few things that thieves would want to steal. Even so, Robin felt painfully vulnerable without her Pa there to protect her. He'd been a hedge knight in his youth, before he met Mama and opened his shop, and had the scars. His large, leathery hands kept her fed, safe, and warm; he was gone.

The screaming and shouts outside did not abate. Goldcloaks swarmed the streets desperate to keep order, but their efforts were in vain. It was though the city itself were descending into hell. The first roar came not long Robin curled up on the floor of the shop, waking her up from her sobs. Were they really going to kill the dragons? The Red Queen had burned an entire army at Rook's Rest not a year ago. Her kin would not fall to potboys, merchants, and farmers, men with no proper weapons who were of no great mind.

The dragons will become angry and kill us all us, Robin wept silently to herself. The city will burn to ash and there'll be nothing left of us.

Another roar broke through the air, this time from above the shop. But the Dragonpit was still so far away that one of the dragons must have broken free and taken to the sky. Robin pried herself from the floor. If she was to die, it would not be like a rat, crouched in the darkness. Outside the sky was on fire as the Usurper Queen's she-dragon snapped flames at her attackers. This beast was not one of the dragons locked in the Dragonpit, so why had she taken flight.

The yellow she-dragon twisted in the air, fending off arrows. A body fell from her back and for one terrible moment, it fell through the air like a feather. Slamming into rooftops and sliding down onto to the filthy streets was a boy barely older than Robin herself. Shards of slate from the broken roofs pierced his body.

Forgetting her fear, Robin ran to him and knelt before the bleeding, broken body. Around her, the chaos raged. Robin put the boy's head in her lap and silently prayed to the Seven. There was no way for this boy to survive a fall like that, but mayhaps the Father and Mother would grant his soul peace.

"You'll be alright," She cooed sweetly, stroking his pale cheek with trembling fingers. Tears fell from her face onto his. "You shall be with the gods soon."

He must have been a Targaryen princeling, one of Queen Rhaenrya's sons, for only those with the blood of Old Valyria could even come near enough to a dragon to mount it. He was dressed in blue velvet, although the blood was soon changing it's color, and did not have a single piece of armor. Mayhaps he had come in a hurry without a plan, recklessly mounting his mother's dragon to end the violence himself. The prince was beautiful, even with his hair matted with blood and his eyes staring sightless into the sky.

"Mother, forgive me." The prince murmured to the open air.

Robin felt her heart clench in terrible pity as the prince died in her arms. She had seen death, but never so close. Her late mother had been the only person whose death affect her, and she had been on the other side of the city when she passed from this world. Robin said another prayer for the prince, for his brothers, and for his mother - though she despised Maegor with Teats, to lose a son warranted anyone sympathy.

A cold, iron hand touched her shoulder. Robin looked up to see a few couple of goldcloaks come to take the prince's body back to his mother. Reluctantly, she rose to her feet and let them. He was not hers to hold. They put the corpse on a cart and wheeled it toward the Red Keep as quickly as they could.

The world returned to her. The crowd and the dragon were farther away now, but they seemed louder somehow. Robin wanted to run back into her Pa's shop, but her feet had turned to lead. A sense of overwhelming helplessness crushed her, brought her to her knees. Hands over her mouth to keep from sobbing, Robin watched with horror as great jets of fire screamed against the sky. The Shepherd and his lamps had reached the Dragonpit; they were killing the dragons.

The queen's great she-dragon fought on in the air, opening her mighty jaws in the direction of Robin's street and burning all that was within sight.

* * *

><p>AN: So I re-read _The Princess and the Queen_ a few days ago and just couldn't get Joffrey's death out of my head. The bit about how the smallfolk claim a candlemaker's daughter comforted him in his last moment was an especially haunting image, so I wrote it down. Thanks for reading.


	2. Awake

Robin opened her eyes. A gauzy white canopy stretched out above and a large silken featherbed held her up. Someone had taken off her cotton dress and replaced it was a satin shift. When she clasped her hands together she saw that she was wearing a ruby ring on the smallest finger of her right hand. Where was she? Why had she not died? In her mind's eye, Robin saw the flames coming out of Syrax's terrible jaws, headed straight for her.

When she tried to sit up, pain struck her in the back of her head.

"Oh, Princess Rhaelyna, you're awake?" For the first time, Robin noticed a septa in her middle years sitting at her bedside watching her. She had a kind face, with gentle hazel eyes lined with crow's feet. "My princess, how do you feel?"

After a moment, Robin realized to her shock that the septa was referring to her. "Me? I-I'm fine, but there must be some mistake. Where am I?" She looked around the bedchamber with wide disbelieving eyes. All around her were finely crafted pieces of furniture, intricately decorated tapestries, and little jeweled trinkets.

"Your own bedchamber my princess." The septa replied confused. "You were infirmed here after your fall. You have been sleeping for two days and nights. Worry not, for Grand Maester Orwyle believes you haven't broken anything. I shall sent for him and for her Grace Queen Rhaenyra."

Robin lay silent with shock, unable to comprehend the septa's words. The Grand Maester? The Usurper Queen? Why in the name of the Seven should they care about the daughter of a candlemaker? Robin ran a hand through her hair, as was her habit. It wasn't the mass of lank brown hair she was born with, but soft curls the color of silver.

A little old man with a bald head entered the room and began examining her.

"I don't remember what happened." She said to him, hoping to get some sort of explanation.

Grand Maester Orwyle shook his head disappointingly as he had her sit up so he could check the bones of her spine. "You were going to have a dragon race with your brother but slipped off the saddle as Dreamfyre took to the sky. You had not strapped yourself in properly and we all feared the worst. Fortunately your fall was not from too high. Tell me Princess Rhaelyna, do you feel any soreness?"

"In the back of my head." She admitted. Her head ought to have been a charred lump, not merely sore.

The Usurper, Maegor With Teats, chose this time to storm into the room. Her beautiful face and silvery hair were illuminated by the morning sunshine. A sea-green dressing robe was wound tightly around her body, emphasizing the weight that came with bearing children. "Rhaelyna, my sweetling." She pulled Robin into a deep, long hug.

This had to be a dream, a vision before death came for her at last. Maegor With Teats was holding her close like a long-lost daughter. Surely this could not be real.

The queen broke the hug and looked at her. There was kind concern in her purple eyes; and love as well, Robin realized with a jolt. "Rhaelyna, I'm glad to you're up and about. I want to you to follow the Grand Maester's every word until you recover. Am I understood?"

"Aye your Grace." Robin replied shyly.

Rhaenyra seemed puzzled by her response, or perhaps by the manner in which it was delivered. "Rest, dear heart. You seem tired and not like yourself. I'll have your brothers come see you later today. I must go now, but I'll return to sup with you tonight."

When Rhaenyra took her leave, handmaidens bathed and fed Robin. Wearing another pretty satin shift, Robin feasted on the finest duck she'd ever had in her life, swimming in spices and sauces she had only ever heard of, washed down with cool, sweet wine. Her hands moved with precision and grace that she was not accustomed to, as if she had eaten like a highborn lady all her life and only just now noticed it.

As per the maester's instruction, Robin returned to sleep. Her dreams were filled with shrieking dragons and the wild, ruthless mob. The Shepard held her by the shoulders, his grip so strong and tight she could not escape, and condemned her to rot in hell with the unholy beasts she loved so much.

"Rhaelyna? Are you awake?" A voice asked from her door. Robin awoke, glad to be roused from her nightmare. A young man poked his head in the doorway.

Since "Rhaelyna" was what everyone called her here, Robin answered that she was. "Come closer please, so that I may see you better."

He did as bid, crossing the room and sitting on her bedside. His eyes were the color of amethysts now and his hair had taken on the same silvery-blonde color as hers, but though his face had become more angular and beautiful, Robin knew him in an instant.

"Prince Joffrey?" She gasped in horror. The image of a dark haired boy falling from a yellow dragon, being pierced by shards of slate, filled her mind's eye. "You... you can't be alive. I saw your death. You died in my arms and the goldcloaks came to take your bones back to your mother."

Alarmed, the prince held her face in his hands, "Don't be afraid sweet sister, it was only a bad dream."

"It couldn't have been a dream. I-I felt your blood on my fingers. It was real!" Robin began to weep. "I fear I have gone mad."

Prince Joffrey wrapped his strong arms around her and held her close to his chest. It was the same thing Robin's father had done every morning before leaving to run his errands and that only made her cry harder.

More boys entered the room, all looking startled to find her crying. The eldest, she surmised, must have been Prince Jacaerys, who had died trying to save his youngest brothers at the Battle of the Gullet. The lad next to him must have been Lucerys, the first of Rhaenyra's sons to die, slain by his own uncle Aemond One-Eye. That meant the two smallest ones were Aegon the Younger and Little Viserys.

"Lyna, are you alright? What happened?" Prince Jacaerys asked.

If they wanted her to play this role, she would have to play it well. "It was only a bad dream." She admitted, wiping her tears and trying to smile, "I'm fine, dear brothers, truly."

Little Viserys handed her a blue silk scarf with a purple dragon embroidered on it. "Baela sent this to you from Driftmark. She thought it would make you feel better."

She accepted the gift with a shy smile. "Thank you. It's the loveliest scarf I've ever seen. I should sent her a raven when I get the chance, to express my gratitude."

Like their mother, the boys all seemed perplexed by her behavior.

"What is it?" She asked.

"You're always saying you hate Baela's embroidery, that she sews as if all her fingers are broken." Aegon the Younger remarked plainly. "Not to her face, but to everyone else."

Robin blanched at her mistake. What was she thinking, believing she could fool the royal family into thinking she was truly this "Princess Rhaelyna"? They must have had a thousand expectations for what kind of girl she was suppose to be, yet she could not even guess what they were. The princes were all staring at her.

"I don't remember anything." Robin said softly. "I don't know who I'm suppose to be or why I'm here. I thought I could pretend I did, but I can't. I'm not a princess, nor am I your sister. I'm sorry for lying. Please don't cut off my head."


	3. A New Life

Prince Jacaerys told his brothers to leave the room and not say a word to their mother. The younger ones, Aegon and Viserys, protested, saying that if their sister had gone mad, they ought to tell their mother. Lucerys and Joffrey bought their silence with promises of extra treats after supper. Robin watched the exchange silently, her skinny knees pulled up to her chest.

When they were alone, Jacaerys pulled up a chair by her bedside. He was looking right at her, but Robin couldn't meet his eyes. "Lyna, do you really not remember anything before your fall? I swear I'm your brother; you can talk to me."

"I never had any brothers or sisters, my prince. My father owned a shop in Flea Bottom and didn't want too many mouths to feed." Robin replied. "I was never a princess, just a girl from Flea Bottom. My name is Robin, a name that's common and unimportant like me. I didn't mean to trade places with the real princess. I didn't even know Queen Rhaenyra had a daughter."

The prince looked horrified. "Rhaelyna. Your name is Princess Rhaelyna Velaryon, daughter of Queen Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor. I carried you to the maester myself after you fell from your dragon, while you cried for our mother."

Robin didn't want to argue with the prince. The dead prince. Her stomach turned as she remembered hearing the news of the crown prince's death, an arrow to the throat (or was it to the heart? the eye?) during a battle against an Essosi fleet. If he was dead, and the flames from the queen's dragon had killed her, did that mean they were in one of the seven heavens? It would explain why she could speak to him but not why everyone thought she was a princess.

"I might be a princess, that's what everyone tells me," Robin said reluctantly, "But I don't remember being a princess. The story I just told you, that's all I know about myself."

Prince Lucaerys sighed, "Perhaps the fall had scrambled your wits." He took a lock of her hair and put it before her eyes, "Do you see this Lyna? This marks you as the being the blood of Old Valyria. You could not possible be a common girl from Flea Bottom with hair like that, with your purple eyes."

That, Robin knew, she could not deny. "Then I am a princess. I must be. How do I be a princess?"

"You should tell our mother about your condition tonight." Jacaerys said.

Robin shook her head, "I don't want her to think I'm mad, even if I am. I don't want to big show of this."

Jacaerys looked thoughtful, "Perhaps you have the right of it. Instead we can arrange for you to visit our family on Driftmark. Rhaena has been queen-in-waiting almost her whole life. If anyone can teach you to be a princess, it's her. Do you remember anything about her and Baela?"

"I only know that they're Prince Daemon's twin daughters with Lady Laena." Robin replied. "And Baela doesn't sew very well, apparently."

Jacaerys nodded, smiling faintly at her attempt at humour, "Driftmark is more private; not too far, but just far enough from the eyes of court. Mother may not like it - she's always preferred having you close - but Lucerys and I can convince her that it's for the best."

"Are we in the Red Keep?"

"Aye."

"Prince Jacaerys-"

"It's just Jace. There's no need to be so formal around family."

"Jace...who else is in our family? I want to be sure I know them all."

"You've meet all our brothers and our mother. She had a babe last year, Princess Visenya, our little sister. Our father, Laenor, is on a tour of the Free Cities with a friend of his, Ser Qarl Correy." Jacaerys reached over and picked up a small metal ball with glyphs carved into it. "He sent this to you from Lorath last week. Prince Daemon stays at court to advise Mother, but his daughters, our cousins, live with our grandparents, Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys."

Ser Laenor was dead too, murdered long before the war though, yet he was alive. What sort of world was she in? She waited for him to start talking about Queen Alicent and her children, but he did not. "Oh. I know the names, but not the people."

"We'll help with that, and before long you'll be yourself again." Jace held out his hand and Robin accepted.

* * *

><p>It was with little complaining that Robin allowed her handmaidens to dress her for supper. In her old life she had only glimpsed noble ladies who always looked so fine in their gowns and jewels but she'd never taken time to consider how much work went into looking like that. Her corset pinched her waist tightly, which was rather uncomfortable. So many layers of fabric went into making her skirts that she feared she would trip and ruin the dress. Her doeskin slippers felt as thin and sheer as parchment.<p>

Yet she moved without difficulty. Her body knew what her mind did not. The odd sensation was quickly proving the idea that she was indeed a princess and had been all her life. If that was true, why did she feel like a commoner playing at being a dragon? Why was she Robin in her heart, not Rhaelyna?

Ser Rickard Thorne of the Kingsguard escorted her to the Queen's Solar, where she would have supper with her mother. Despite all the terrible things she'd heard about Rhaenyra Targaryen, Robin felt a warm glow in her chest at the thought of having a mother again. She still remembered her first mother's death, however dimly. Though it had been awkward at the time, she also liked the way Rhaenyra had hugged her.

In the Queen's Solar, Rhaenyra sat talking in low voices to a man Robin had never seen before. His hair was white, but not with age.

"See Daemon, I told you she was fine. You worry too much." Rhaenyra said happily to the man next to her.

Robin felt her heart stutter in fright. Whatever they said about Rhaenyra in the winesinks and potshops of Flea Bottom, they said worse of her uncle.

"Sit down child." Prince Daemon said to her, not unkindly. "You look quite pale."

She did as was told, reminding herself that even a man who consorted with sorceresses and cutthroats would not stoop to kinslaying. Nor did he seem like the kind of man who was cruel for cruelty's sake. If he wanted to hurt her, he'd need a reason first. "Good evening Mother, Uncle Daemon." She said trying not to sound scared.

"By the gods its true." Prince Daemon shook his head, sounding almost mournful "Since you've woken up, you've been a completely different person. Look at you, trembling like a leaf in the wind. Just last week you tried to pick a fight with one of Luke's friends, Franklyn Santagar. That's what I liked best about you, Lyna, your fire; and now its as though your fire's almost out."

"Lyna is perfectly fine, Uncle." Rhaenyra protested. "She's only tired, aren't you dear?"

Robin nodded but did not speak. She ate in silence while Rhaenyra and Daemon discussed the details of court and of ruling the realm. From what she could gather, the Young King Viserys had never re-married, leaving Rhaenyra as her heir and Daemon as Protector of the Realm until she came of age. She tried to sort out all the names and titles they tossed back to each other, hoping to understand the royal court, but they spoke in a way that made it difficult to keep up.

When they were having little cherry tarts for dessert, her mother and great-uncle relaxed and started joking. They were trying to get her to laugh, Robin could tell, or to make her angry, but all she could manage in response to their teasing was a small, shy smile.

"Lyna, I spoke to Jace earlier today, after he came to see you." Rhaenyra stated, her good cheer slowly going out of her. Robin looked up sharply. "He said he though it'd be a good idea for you to spend some time on Driftmark. Court is dreadful, and I imagine it would be worse after an injury. Would you like that, to be away from here?"

She looked so sad Robin felt sorry for her. "I...I like it here, Mother. I would miss you, but I think Jace has the right of it. I miss my grandparents and cousins. Some time away would be good for me."

Rhaenyra gave her a tight smile. "Of course, my dear. Whatever makes you feel better, you shall have."


End file.
